I'm the kind of human wreckage that you love.

I'm run down, exhausted from work and the stress of moving house. I'm so fucking anti social right now. I just can't help it, all these people around me make me sick. I just want them THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!
Seriously.
After the other night, i dunno. Kixxy left and i felt so down. Weird isn't it, when you're feeling lonely you just want to be by yourself?
It's starting to affect the rest of my life. I'm not sleeping too well at the moment, so that affects my work. And when I don't work well I get depressed, and then i don't sleep well.

Not to mention affecting my relationship.
Gah, let's not even start on that one.

Sometimes I wish I was dying. Not for any depressive reason. Just for something to DO.
Life would be interesting if I only had a few months left. I'd doom everyone and just do my own thing.
I think about dying a lot. I imagine lying in some hospital bed somewhere, hooked up to machines beeping and purring. Extending my heartbeat but shortening my life.
I'd be there and I'd call someone. In my imagination it's often Griffin. I'd say
"dude, I can't be here any more. Come out here and get me" He'd come to the hospital and we'd talk for a bit, he'd be telling me that if he unhooked the drips then I'd start to die. I'd have maybe 24 hours left on my own two feet.
I'd make an impassioned speech about not wanting to die "in this stinking, corpse ridden hospital". I'd get dressed and he'd help me out the door, sneak me past orderlies who'd wrestle me back inside if they caught me.
I imagine I'd stagger in to my store in subiaco. If I'm going to die I'll do it in a comfy chair with a big fat cigar in my hand.
The girls would be on shift and they'd be dismayed that I was there, of course they'd know all about what was happening. I'd push past them and select a cigar. Something nice and big, damn the price. I'd have an argument with Simon because he'd want me to go back to the hospital.
And tell him to go fuck himself. I'd pay for it myself, because I fucking earned it, and who cares anyway? I wont need the money soon enough.
And I'd leave.
But here's the thing.
In my mind.
At the end of this fantasy.
I see myself sitting somewhere, maybe on my balcony, and I've made all the important phone calls. I've said my goodbyes. And I'm alone.
I'm sitting there alone puffing on my cigar and slowly, I slip away.
At that point in time. I'm happiest.

I don't wish I was dying. But I really want to be alone.